Overheard

Part 11

A/N: Another person overhears something they shouldn't…

Please, enjoy. (-:

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Scarlett was enjoying the respite in their animosity and indifference that took over their house for another two days very much. She went so far as to softly hum a half-forgotten melody she used to enjoy in her youth, while helping the Cook to put together a get-well-basket for Melanie the morning after her late evening conversation with Rhett. If the servants were surprised by her new attitude, they hid it well. Only Pork couldn't help it but kept smiling her way, obviously greatly relieved that Mister Rhett was finally getting better. It was no secret to him that Miss Scarlett was behind the change.

Rhett for his part tried to keep out of Scarlett's way. He knew his estranged wife well enough to recognize she needed some time on her own to ponder things over before they could plan for the future. He spent the day after their talk out of the house, calling on an acquaintance from his old Blockade days, an English cotton dealer who was just visiting Atlanta and Marietta and his commercial contacts there to renew his local contracts. The two of them dinned together in the National Hotel and Rhett returned home so late at night that both the children and Scarlett were long asleep.

Remembering that he promised to himself to spend more time with Wade and Ella, Rhett offered the children an outing the very next day, swallowing against the bitter pain rising up in his throat when the third place on the carriage's backseat that used to belong to Bonnie remained empty.

Scarlett took her late breakfast in her bedroom that morning, clearly still in need of some more alone time. Rhett was prepared to give her as much space as she needed – there was no need to rush the things in his opinion. He too was much too satisfied with the temporarily peace ruling in their household to disturb it willingly...

Unfortunately for the Butlers, Melanie Wilkes received yet another basket that very morning, this time sent by the well-meaning Mrs. Meade. While packing it out and sorting the things in their small kitchen and the adjoined storeroom, Melanie spoke to Dilcey, going over the diet recommended to her by Doctor Meade.

Ashley, headed to have a rare smoke on the porch, happened to wander unnoticed around the open door to the kitchen in that very moment. He was not paying attention to their talk until his interest was caught by an uncharacteristic stutter in Melanie's voice. Curiosity overpowering him, Ashley stopped a few steps away from the door leading to the kitchen and listened in.

"I pray that the baby survives," Melanie was just telling Dilcey, her voice once again calm, and Ashley was about to resume his walk towards the porch under the mistaken impression that his wife was simply worried about one of their plentiful acquaintances in Atlanta or the Clayton County who was with a child. Melanie's next words shook him consequently to the core. "I shall not be upset if I die delivering it to this world," Melanie said to Dilcey, her tone betraying tears hidden behind those brave words.

Why would you be delivering a child, Melanie? Ashley did not understand straight away. But then he recalled the night right after Bonnie's funeral when he had only wanted to soothe both her and himself a little and Ashley's naturally pale face blanched, turning a sickly white. Dear Lord, no, it is Melanie who is expecting! … She will die now… She cannot have another child! ... She will die. Melanie was not to have any more children... She will die. … I have killed her… I have murdered her… She will die!

Lost in this mantra, Ashley blindly staggered to the porch. Unthinkingly, he lit his usually well-cherished cigarette, his eyes empty as he stared on the street. Feeling his world crumbling around himself, he stumbled towards the chair in the corner of the porch and dropped heavily into it, hanging his head. His cigarette finished, he let his hands cover his grief-stricken face and finally started to cry, silent and unstoppable tears running down his cheeks.

This was how Melanie found him sometimes later when she was calling him for lunch and he had not replied to her. Her eyes too watering for a moment at the sight of him, she gathered up her courage and kneeled in front of him, gently taking her husband's hands in her smaller ones and removing them from his face. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and attempted to dry his tears. Ashley stared at her, new tears collecting in his reddened eyes.

"I cannot lose you, Melanie," he told her finally.

Melanie understood immediately. "You heard me speaking to Dilcey…"

Ashley nodded affirmatively. "I cannot loose you," he repeated, staring in her face and looking as a lost child.

Caressing his cheek softly, Melanie smiled sadly. "I do not want to loose you either. We have to have firm faith in the Lord that he is merciful to us."

Ashley nodded into her hand. "I pray every day that he preserves you for me. I would not be able to live without you."

Melanie leaned closer to him and Ashley felt her lips pressing on his forehead, neither of them caring for their being in public and the convention for once. "Please, pray for the baby as well. It is a dream of mine becoming truth," she asked shyly.

Ashley couldn't help it but nodded again. He would do anything for her, anything at all. Even pray for the sake of her murderer. But that wasn't the baby, was it? No, it was him, him who was not able to deny himself the night of comfort, well-knowing what it could do to her. "Yes, I will pray for it," he vowed, silently adding 'and I shall try not to hate it for what it might do to you.'

Melanie smiled softly. "Thank you, darling. I am very lucky to have you for husband." She took his clenched hands in hers and squeezed them in silent support. Yes, she indeed was lucky, she thought, for having Ashley, Beau, Scarlett and expecting the baby now.

They remained on the porch a few moments longer, each of them trying to come into terms with their new situation. Finally, Melanie stood, straightening up her skirts as she did so. "The food will be cold if we delay much longer. The luncheon is served, darling. Will you come now?"

Ashley looked up at her, a sad smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I am ready now, dear." He stood as well, took her hand and together they went into the house.

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A/N: Cigarettes and Ashley… When I was plotting this chapter, Ashley simply needed to wander around the threshold to their kitchen. The only question was why he would walk through their house like that without having a purpose (sorry, I cannot see him overhearing a conversation otherwise (-:). Hence the planned smoke on the porch… BUT the words "a rare smoke" and "ausually well-cherished cigarette"are very much in place here and not because the people of 1870s would consider the smoking habit dangerous for their health.

In post bellum time, cigarettes were not yet very common in America. They were handmade and therefore quite expensive. It wasn't until 1880s that afirst cigarette-making machine was invented, increasing the sales of cigarettes. This is why I believe that while Rhett would have smoked habitually (both cigarettes, or even the more expensive and luxurious cigars), Ashley would get the chance only occasionally.

Seeing to the recent 100-year-anniversary of the beginning of World War 1 it is interesting to learn that it was the Great War that brought the masses to the smoking habit. At that time, soldiers overseas were given free cigarettes each day. Women started to smoke in 1920s, in the jazz era.

You can learn more e.g. here:

ht_tp :_/_/healthliteracy .worlded. o_r_g/ docs /tobacco /Tobacco .pdf

(remove the spaces and the underscores)

Thanks for reading and commenting! (-: